“OK, dad,” said Brian reluctantly. “Son, I’ve got to go. Say hello for me to Mary and Thomas and Cathy. I’ll contact you when it is safe to emerge, assuming cell phones still work. Keep listening to the radio, also. Good bye, son,” said the General. As he hung up, he hoped it wasn’t the final good bye for either of them. Brian looked out the window at the snowy Maine landscape. He would go into town first thing in the morning, as it was now late afternoon.
General Straub picked up the hotline to Mount Weather. “Mr. President.” The General updated President Tomlinson with the latest developments and the speculative input from the NORAD Crisis Management Team. The President responded. “General Straub, the minute the CDC gives us an idea of what we are dealing with, I’m going on television, radio and the internet. The people will need the calming voice of their President.” A lot of good that will do thought the General. “President Tomlinson, what about the attack plan, Plan Omega that we discussed previously? You know, the Warthogs and advanced experimental weaponry? Well, now I think we should launch Plan Omega right away and supplement the Warthogs and experimental weaponry with tactical nukes.” “General, I’ll think on it. If we use nukes, it is almost guaranteed that the Wedgies will return fire with nuclear warheads. We know that they have them based upon the Tehran strike. We don’t want nukes going off all over the states from both sides. That would only escalate civilian and military casualties. Go ahead with Plan Omega against the enemy as soon as possible. We’ll see how things go. Keep me updated” The general hung up with a heavy heart filled with misgivings. He wasn’t absolutely certain that the enemy could be neutralized without the use of tactical nukes.
The scene switched to the Homeland Security Office in New York headed by Director Garrett. The first alarms had come in from Grand Central Terminal followed by subway stops below the Station. Director Garrett had sprung into action as soon as the duty officer had notified him of the alarms. A flurry of calls detailing protocols for quarantine to the Guard and his staff got the ball rolling. As he hung up, he knew the Guard was already locking down Grand Central and all transportation out. Field quarantine sites would be set up promptly and buses were being requisitioned under the Emergency Powers Act enabled by martial law. Teams with biological hazards gear had been rapidly assembled and were on their way. The National Guard Command had been notified to don protective gear against biological hazards and was locking down the Station. Subways out had been terminated. Unfortunately some had left already, but were being tracked down with the Metropolitan Transit Authority’s assistance.
Right now the Director was on the phone with the CDC Director Thomas Soule in Atlanta. “Garrett, we’ll have to assume the worse. You can’t take chances. If this is an alien, bio-engineered plague that is highly contagious and fatal, we must act now with decisive force and action. Until we get the samples of the mist from your city and other cities, we must track down all exposures and institute strict quarantine. All trains, cabs, buses and subways, and pedestrians are all possible vectors for spreading the disease. All individuals during that time frame at ground zero were likely exposed and must be accounted for. Set up field quarantine sites immediately. Keep me updated,” said Director Thomas Soule. Director Garrett responded, “We already have those steps underway. The samples left by special courier some time ago and should arrive shortly.”
Garrett hung up and thought what a logistical mess. He had authorized the National Guard to seize all trains and subway cars that has already left the Station, stop any further trains and subway cars, find all the cabbies and their passengers, buses, and personal cars. Oh my God, what a nightmare, he thought. He would have to broadcast this on all media as a please come forward if you were near Grand Central Station today, we must quarantine you to possibly save your life and the lives of others. Yes, it was not clear how true this would turn out to be, but it would get their attention. Still, it was more likely than not that the alien mist was harmful. Better safe than sorry. Crap, suddenly thought Director Garrett, Penn station was on the subway line from Grand Central. More trains would have to be stopped and quarantined. He wondered where they would put all the possibly infected people and keep them isolated.
CDC Director Thomas Soule in Atlanta, Georgia and his staff repeated the same phone call over and over to all the Homeland Security offices at the cities where alien crafts were stationed. Similar variants of this activity were taking place all around the globe. The video showed some samples. Unhappily, the levels of professionalism and response were not the same everywhere. For some, sheer size made the logistics impossible. Such was the case for Mumbai. With others, the ability to respond with proper equipment was a non-starter as with Luanda, Angola.
Alexi Utkin relaxed in his seat on the New York to New Haven Metro North train. Suddenly an announcement came over the loudspeaker system. “Due to technical difficulties, we have to stop the train before the first stop. Given the electrified track, you are advised to stay put. We will be moving on shortly.” Alexi looked out the window and saw lots of flashing lights ahead and some buses on the nearby roads. A short stop my ass, he thought. The train or tracks are screwed such that we’re going to be bused away. Just then he thought he saw some individuals near the buses suited up in hazmat gear. Shit, must have been a toxic spill from a truck or some gas leak from nearby. Can this day get any worse, he thought. Yah, he thought, it can as he viewed the hazmat workers wearing respirators approaching the train. Belatedly, he thought, Oh, Christ, this has something to do with the mist from the craft over the Station. He watched as the engineer and crew were led off the engine car and led to a waiting bus. Gradually, each car was emptied and bused off. Then it was his car’s turn. He couldn’t help but notice that the army troops were wearing gas masks and protective clothing and carrying M-16s. He had no doubt that they were loaded.
As he was following the others out the exit door, a voice came from one of the hazmat suited men near the exit. “Alexi Utkin, please come with me.” Alexi could see that the man was holding a picture of Alexi like the one the newspaper used. Alexi blurted, “Who are you? Why should I go with you?” The speaker flashed an FBI badge at Alexi. “OK, I’m coming, said Alexi as he followed him into what looked like a plastic tent. Once inside, another hazmat suited individual said “Take off your clothes, including your underwear, and stick them in the red bag.” His voice was somewhat muffled by the respirator. Alexi thought better about arguing, given the rigid army guy in biological gear standing there with his M16. “Step under the shower.” A blast of cold water smelling like disinfectant made him shiver. “Walk through and stand under the purple light.” Alexi guessed it was ultraviolet sterilizing light and closed his eyes. “Here, put this jumpsuit on.” He was handed a red jumpsuit. Hard to hide in that suit, he thought. Alexi doubted that he would get the chance to escape anyways.
Alexi was led to a table and told to sit. The two hazmat suited men sat facing him. “Alexi, I’m agent Arlo Donaldson and this is agent Stanley Tauck. We were wondering how you might explain the following. You contacted your Editor by cell phone. You told him you had information, tweets from anonymous sources stating that the mist came from the hostile craft. Your phone records indicate that there are no tweets dealing with the mist.” Alexi knew it would do no good to lie. “OK, I am the source. I was there and saw and felt the mist. It definitely came from the alien craft. Given that it wasn’t nerve gas and I felt fine, I didn’t want to be quarantined. I figured it was just water vapor, you know, like the contrail from an airliner.” Agent Donaldson looked at Alexi and said. “Well, you are now going to be quarantined. We are putting you and all the train passengers into isolation wards, thanks to your stupidity and carelessness. They have all been exposed to you or the mist as far as the CDC is concerned. Hopefully, in a few weeks or so and monitoring and various tests, all of you will be deemed non-contagious and be released.” “Where am I going,” asked Alexi? Agent Tauck responded, “You are going to Kings County Hospital C
enter in Brooklyn. They have the best isolation ward.” Alexi was led away to join the others for the bus ride to the Hospital. Just before he got on the bus, Agent Donaldson held a note in front of Alexi’s face. It said, “I wouldn’t mention that your exposure has caused all these people to be quarantined. It might not be good for your health.”
Back at NORAD headquarters, General Straub looked up as his Aide came into the office with a smart salute. “At ease, Sergeant O’Malley, what do you have for an update?” said the General. “Two items, General. First, we now have verifiable confirmation from a highly reliable source that the mist came directly from the hostile craft over Grand Central Station. The FBI has confirmed this fact as coming from the New York Times reporter, Alexi Utkin, before he was placed in quarantine. Secondly, reports are coming in that the hostiles that disengaged from the misted cities are moving toward previously established targets, likely joining up with the other hostiles in place at those sites based on tracking early trajectories. Interestingly, one hostile over the cities remained behind, the one over Atlanta, Georgia. Those over the other bio-facilities have not moved. We now have confirmed 99 Wedgies in play over the United States. Spy Satellites indicate 100 over China, 100 over Russia, 40 over India, 10 each over the United Kingdom, France, Germany, and Brazil, and 10 each over Japan and Turkey. Of our 72 Active and Reserve Air Force bases, roughly three quarters of them are within proximity of the 68 Wedgies not tied up with cities or bio-safety facilities. The patterns are similar throughout the other affected global powers.”
The General thought this was bad news. He knew what he would do in the enemies’ position. He would first destroy the Air Force bases to eliminate air power, thus castrating the nation. Next, the enemies’ best outcome of population thinning through a biological agent would be to eliminate our ability to counteract their biological attack with a vaccine or medication. No, they would first hit the bio-safety facilities to destroy our ability to identify their bio-weapon and eliminate our ability to fight back against their bio-weapon. Crap, at least the bases could fight back if attacked, but the bio-safety facilities were sitting ducks. On that basis he thought that the next attack would be aimed at the CDC and the other bio-safety level four labs in Bethesda, Boston, Galveston, Grafton, Hamilton, Kent, Manhattan, Richmond, San and Antonio. Other important facilities such as Plum Island will go too, as well as any major biological lab facility operated by the military. Even though the 1972 Biological Weapons Convention international treaty outlawing biological warfare had resulted in destruction of offensive biological weapons at the Pine Bluff Arsenal, the facilities such as those at Fort Detrick remained operational. How would he assure their survival, too? The General reached into his desk and poured a stiff blast of Laphroaig single malt scotch into a glass and sipped it slowly. It was much better than the Kentucky bourbon that was empty now. Options for dealing with the situation had essentially become trapped between a rock and a hard place.
General Straub made a quick decision. He called his Aide in. “Sergeant O’Malley, I want to divert some of the Warthogs currently on their way to our bases. Thirty of them need to go to the following destinations for new assignments. They are to go to the CDC and the other bio-safety level 4 labs in Bethesda, Boston, Galveston, Grafton, Hamilton, Kent, Manhattan, Richmond, and San Antonio. Assign three each to those sites. Have the logistics teams determine which ones to divert in terms of rapid deployment, but not at the expenses of thinning our protective layers around our military bases. Check on the readiness status of our defenses. Update me as each base reaches readiness state. The minute all the Warthogs are in place and every weapon is a go, notify me immediately.” God, he thought. I hope we have enough time before they strike again.
Concurrently back in New York, the round-up of exposure cases was proceeding at a rapid pace. Homeland Security Rapid Response teams in conjunction with the National Guard had secured Grand Central Station, Penn Station, the train traffic, cabs, buses and subways. All traffic out had been locked down. Anyone present in the terminal, subways, cabs, buses or trains that were associated with the misting incident time frame were firmly placed under quarantine. Their numbers were substantial so Yankee Stadium was used as a temporary holding pen until sufficient isolation quarantine facilities were available and effective transport could be arranged. Numerous portable shelters with propane heaters had been set up, as winter conditions prevailed. Much grumbling ensued and two things were very clear. Armed soldiers were needed to maintain order and to prevent breakouts. The second parameter was all this had be accomplished rapidly, not only because it was cold, but to assure better quarantine function. Knowing that even this major, rapid response couldn’t guarantee getting 100% of those exposed, scare tactics were used to corral the rest. Messages in several languages went out by reverse 911, tweets, radio, television and the internet. Essentially, the message was if you were exposed, you must be placed in quarantine for your own good and the health of your loved ones. Many who were unknowingly exposed and had left just before the lockdown turned themselves in to the authorities. While the quarantine roundup was thorough, some infected individuals probably escaped the dragnet. All those who responded were marched off for observation in isolation. These scenes were repeated in cities throughout the United States and in varying degrees across the globe. So far, no one showed any signs of illness or disease. Homeland Security’s rapid response to order protective biological gear for the responders and rapidly instituting quarantine undoubtedly limited the spread of the unknown biological.
Little reporting went on about seizing of trains, buses, subways, and putting people into quarantine. Cell phones were confiscated from all the exposed individuals very early on prior to the chemical disinfectant showers and UV light treatment. If asked, the action was cited on grounds of possible contamination. Few asked questions beyond that, but for those that did, the use of the Emergency Powers Act was cited as the legal precedent for confiscation. A few had called friends or family before the confiscation, but the Homeland Security PR staff stonewalled or evaded the questions from the contacted families and friends, hiding under the Emergency Powers Act. Those that pushed too hard or got too close soon found themselves “in protective custody.” Given no one seemed to have died yet, even when definitely exposed, pushback was minimal. Martial law, curfews and the Emergency Powers Act tended to keep a tight lid on the matter. People were more concerned about what the alien craft were going to do and why the President seemed to say so little other than to declare martial law and close off travel to and from major cities.
Meredith was jarred awake in her seat on the Ethan Allen Express train to Rutland. She felt the train starting to slow down. She glanced at her watch. No way, she thought, we can’t be at the first stop in Vermont, Fair Haven. She decided to scroll down her emails on her I-Phone. One caught her eye. It was from a classmate who had taken the Metro North from New York to New Haven to visit her boyfriend at Yale. She read “Meredith, what a disaster. The train was stopped and we are being marched off to God knows where. No one is talking. I thought I overheard someone say quarantine. Got to go; here they come. They’re confiscating our cell phones. WTF. Hugs, Jane.”
Just then, an announcement came that the train was being stopped due to unforeseen technical difficulties. As they came around a curve, Meredith could see into the distance. She saw flashing lights, lots of them. Crap, she thought. Either there was a hazardous chemical spill or gas leak or maybe what Jane was talking about. Meredith decided it wasn’t going to ruin her skiing weekend trip with Anthony. Meredith made a rapid decision. She grabbed her backpack, put it on, and moved to the rear of the car as if to change cars. As she exited the car, the train was slowing even more because of the sharp curve. The flashing lights ahead seemed even more numerous. Meredith leaned over the connecting platform between the two cars and noted lots of fresh plowed snow along the track. She took a deep breath and jumped. She hit the snow hard and started to roll, but her backpack dug in
and stopped her. She was a bit sore, but was not hurt in any way that she could tell. Meredith could see a nearby road paralleling the tracks with cars and trucks moving along. She figured based on the time that she was near the Albany/Rensselaer stop. Good, she thought, should be easy to hitch a ride to town and figure out a bus route to Rutland. Worse come to worse, she could use her fake driver’s license that showed her as 25. Besides bars, it was good for renting cars to those who were below the minimal renting age.
What luck, she thought, as the big rig pulled over. As she pulled herself up to the cab, she said, “Hi, I need a lift to town.” “Hop in” said the driver, “I’ll be going through there. My name is Jake.” “Pleased to meet you, I’m Meredith. Will you go near any car rental places or the bus station?” “Sure thing; I’ll drop you off at the Avis place. Did your car break down?” “Yah,” replied Meredith. It was better than the truth. About 20 minutes later, she thanked Jake as she exited the cab and walked over to the Avis place. Good, it was still open. The young women behind the counter looked totally bored and engrossed in music through her ear bud. She barely looked at Meredith’s license. The credit card was in good shape, so no problem, Meredith thought. Soon she was on her way to Rutland. Meredith called Anthony. “I’ll be a little late. I had a little trouble along the way. I’ll explain later. Keep the party going,” she laughed. She synced her I-Pod to the Ford’s media system. Who needs a radio, she thought. Not using the radio, she didn’t hear any of the Homeland Security’s messages about exposure at Grand Central Station and the quarantine.
The Manhattan Incident Page 8
